Category Archives: stupid people

I am NOT Too Old For a Miniskirt

Who do these people think they are telling me I’m too old to wear a miniskirt?  According to some weight-challenged Brits, no one wants to see women’s legs once we have sagged our way to our mid-thirties. A much passed around post in the Daily Mail proclaims 35 is the absolute cut-off for short skirts. Hubby strenuously disagrees with them and is begging me to buy MORE skirts just to prove them wrong.

DietChef, some British diet food distributor (a la Jenny Craig), supposedly administered a poll to 2,000 (British, dieting, and riddled with low self-esteem) women  asking the age at which certain items of clothing are no longer appropriate.

These legs can still rock a miniskirt.

The Results:

  • Bikini, 47
  • Swimsuit, 61 
  • Miniskirt, 35 
  • Long hair, 53
  • Ponytail, 51
  • Boob Tube (aka tube top), 33
  • Stilettos, 51
  • Belly button piercing, 35
  • Knee high boots, 47
  • Trainers (sneakers), 44
  • Leather pants, 34
  • Leggings, 45
  • Ugg boots, 45
  • See-through chiffon blouse, 40


How is it possible that 35 is to old for a miniskirt but a bikini is just fine until age 47? Trust me, the general public would much rather be forced to stare at my legs in a short skirt than my bit of muffin flopping over my bikini bottom. And how is it that a mere 14 years later at the ripe old age of 61 women should no longer even be SEEN in a swimsuit?  What are we supposed to wear, some kind of geriatric swim costume?

Obviously these people have never been to Daytona Beach, home to the never-ending parade of 85-year-old women proudly showing off their tans, tattoos, and sagging cleavage in fluorescent bikinis.  (A few of these former biker babes WAY past their prime have made Hubby shriek and spew Cheetos and Kiddo point as if a painted whale just crawled up from the sea.)

For most women, there is a cut off age depending on her body type and modesty level, but are these pollsters saying that their own Dame Helen Mirren should not be allowed to wear any swimsuit?  She looks better than me (and probably you too) at the “old” age of 65.

I am rather surprised by the late age cut-off for long hair and pony tails.  As soon as I hit 30 my dad told me I was too old for my long locks and informed me I looked much younger once I chopped them off. (I didn’t cut my hair off for him, I just couldn’t handle the then infant Kiddo trying to scalp me as he practiced grasping and pulling.) Should we all be required to go in for weekly set and curls once we hit the big 5-0?   It has to do with style people.  If you are trying to look like you did at 16, you are going to look old and inappropriate.  No matter the length, if your hairstyle is current you can wear it well at any age.

No trainers (sneakers) after 44?  Are we supposed to give up exercising completely or only go to classes like yoga, Pilates, and water aerobics which don’t require shoes? No, that wouldn’t  work either.  Yoga and Pilates are most comfortable in leggings (forbidden after 45) and swimsuits–well, we already discussed that one. And some peoples feet just need to be covered.  I refuse to trade in my walking shoes for colored leather flats with tassels AND pantyhose with shorts.  My (well over 44) M-I-L just tried hiking the LA canyons in leather flats.  BAD idea.  I just won’t do it.

Somehow shorts didn’t even make the list.  How can that be?  Women, heck, little girls even wear inappropriate shorts at all ages.   Have these people never cruised the mall or stepped foot in a Walmart?  The amount of erroneous shorts choices is just appalling.  Some days you just have to stare at the floor to not get freaked out. Oh wait, the list was compiled by Brits–they only wear shorts while on holiday in some sunny, foreign locale.  Try and tell a woman sweltering  through waves of hot flashes in the deep South she is forbidden from wearing shorts.  Do it and run. I dare you.

We should make a list of all the items MEN shouldn’t wear after a certain age.   Starting with:

  • Speedos–forbidden once potty trained–3
  • Make-up and nail polish–16 (or once they drop out of their garage band)
  • High school jerseys, jackets and other paraphernalia–the day after graduation-18
  • Capris–just pick shorts or pants–4 (because it takes a while for their legs to catch up with their waists)
  • Disney themed apparel–10 (any older and they will rightfully get beat up)
  • Heavy fragrance (i.e. Polo, Drakkar Noir)–18 (or when they actually get a girlfriend)
  • Skinny jeans–16 (and a GIRL)
  • Birkenstocks--24 (once they graduate college and/or stop smoking pot)
  • Crocs–10
  • Tank tops–age 8 (or once they stop coming with the matching swim trunks)
  • Sports jerseys–unless you are actually on the field/court/rink don’t do it
  • Bow ties–only with a proper tuxedo and then only black or white
  • Leather pants–never
  • Navy blazers with brass buttons–65 and up only
Are you a rule breaker?

What else should be on the Men’s list?
I’ll be sitting here in my boob tube and miniskirt waiting your reply. 

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Survive the Rapture and Get Naked

Watch out world, a wild weekend awaits us all.

The BAD News: 

You had better party hard, kiss your kids, and knock as many items off your bucket list as humanly possible by Saturday.   Stop planning your Doomsday parties and trips to watch the aliens land in France in 2012 because you only have until this Saturday.

According to Family Radio, a so-called network of Christian Radio stations, Judgment day will be upon us May 21st 2011.  Yes, that’s this weekend.  Start praying or partying.  Family Radio has bought 1,200 billboards proclaiming the end of days nationwide and 2,000 overseas to scare us into submission.   Five caravans of followers have been criss-crossing the county to spread the word.

Funny how the billboards prominently advertise their website and live open radio forum.  Apparently marketing is a required class in wacko religious fundamentalism school because even though many of these people are certifiable, they manage to get their word out and bilk plenty of “believers” out of their social security checks and milk money in the process.

The radio programs have reported that great earthquakes will shake the Earth (at 6 p.m. EST if you want to brace yourself or go hide under your sturdy desk) and believers will be called to the heavens while the unrepentant will be “thrown to the ground and shamed.”

I’m hoping it’s similar to the morning after walk of shame.  Although unpleasant and embarrassing, it is certainly survivable even if one’s pride is no longer in tact.

I will be sure to have my loved ones beside me and a top-notch glass of wine in hand as I watch the clock tick down Saturday.  Just in case.

The GOOD News:

If you manage to rise from the ground after Saturday evening’s cataclysm just dust off your knees and dump your clothes.  You won’t need them for Sunday’s main event: the Streak the Cove 5K Run. 

Yup.  It’s a naked 5K.

While that might be rather freeing and spare runners from chafing, well ladies, wouldn’t that just hurt a bit?  There is a reason women spend a small fortune in search of the perfectly supportive jog bra.   I suppose many men will be thrilled to sway in the breeze while imagining themselves as the original Olympians, but wouldn’t all that knocking be distracting?

I have a feeling the spectators will far outweigh the participants.  Which is all good and fine if the runners looked like this:

Considering the resort offers a steep discount to visitors 18-35 (and hey–kids are free!) I really don’t think the hot runner above is the average participant and guest.  Damn.

Alas, a trip to Cypress Cove is not going to fit into my weekend plans, but I give kudos to those who make it (and show it off).   Maybe they should advertise free admission and wave the race entry fee to all wide-eyed Family Radio listeners.  Give the caravan free on-site camping.  Offer them a complementary post-race drink at Scuttlebutts Lounge or Cheeks Bar and Grill.

After all, followers  are going to be searching for a new cause to dedicate themselves when they wake Sunday morning here on Earth without angel wings.  Why not go Natural?  I just hope they remember to bring LOTS of sunscreen.

Soccer Mom Crash Course

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon at the Soccer Complex.  Osprey soared through the blue sky over the fields and the air was thick with excitement, sweat, and apprehension.  It was the first game of the season…and Kiddo’s first game ever.

I had the requisite folding chairs and Kiddo’s water bottle.   Hubby and I should have just settled down in the sunshine to watch a pack of six and seven-year-old chase a ball around a field.   Right?     Wrong...

This is Kiddo’s first season  playing any sport.  My Hubby still sacrifices himself to the Soccer Gods each Sunday, so I wasn’t exactly overeager to give up my Saturdays as well.  We waited for Kiddo to tell us he really wanted to play.  It just took a while for him to tear himself away from his Legos and hours of free play.

His team has had a whopping three practices.  Basically, the coach showed them how to kick a ball.  We haven’t really gotten to distance, passing or even much aim.  Several times the players had to be rounded up from playing tag or picking dandelions.  Kiddo was excited to have cleats (excuse me, boots) and knee socks (a.k.a. soccer socks) like his Daddy.  Two little girls showed off their new shoes with pink stripes and chased their matching pink balls.  Most kids were in Kindergarten.  Newbies.  Fresh meat.

Hubby (soccer show-off that he is) volunteered to help the coach wrangle  kids and herd them towards their correct goals out on the practice field.  He had no official position–it was just a fun way to blow off some steam after a stressful day at work.  But last Thursday after practice the coach pulled him aside and said he couldn’t make it to the first game Saturday and the assistant coach had been a no-show for two weeks.  Could Hubby possibly help out?

How could  he say no?  Hubby was drafted.

Now, it’s Kiddo’s first game ever and our first time even watching a kids’ soccer match, and suddenly Hubby is the fearless leader of a pack of wild and mostly untrained players.  We figured it would be fine–just some low key bumble-bee ball.  He’s played for 30+ years himself.  How hard could it be?

We arrived to find the opposing team doing organized warm-up drills called out by a drill sergeant.  There were a lot of them–the field was aglow with future World Cup contenders zipping along in their fluorescent green jerseys.  And they were all easily a head taller than our biggest player and probably double the weight of our smallest.  They looked as if they had been playing together since they were waddling in diapers. Ugh oh…

Their coach must be a professional high school football coach and/or a Marine drill sergeant.   He paced the sidelines barking orders and calling plays like,  “Hey Wolf–get on that kid–take him down!” and “Defense stay in your positions– knock ’em out!” 

Coach Hubby ran along with the kids yelling, “Just kick the ball!  No, our goal’s in the other direction!”

The other team had fourteen players.  They switched the entire squad on the field out every few minutes for freshly rested and watered reinforcements.  We had one sub.  Our little guys and gals were thirsty, unsure, and exhausted.  Their goalies hunched in front of the net wearing special pennies and goalie gloves.  Our goalies wore one of Kiddo’s X-men t-shirts and I caught one picking clovers in the grass.  At half time the other team had an organized huddle while their coach dressed them down and went over new strategies.  At half time our team drank all of their water and tried not to cry. 

Coach Hubby just shook his head and muttered how it was like reliving The Bad News Bears.  Except soccer instead of baseball.  And he couldn’t drink beer at the field–although we probably all could have used one.

In the end, it was a debacle.  The league is *not supposed to* keep score, but we went down in flames 13-0.

The parents still cheered as loud as we could each time one of our players got a foot on the ball or made a run towards the goal.  We took pictures and gave pats on the back.   We shouted words of encouragement.  Since there were so few players, we quickly learned all their names and ages and previous experience (or lack of).  We discovered who had unexpected speed and who wasn’t afraid to lock horns with kids twice his size.  We saw how amazing our kids were no matter how they played.  And they did play well–the other team just played better.  We were all proud.

After the game Kiddo knew his team had been spanked.  But he still had fun.  And so had Hubby.  That made it a great day anyway.

 And I hope when our team gets into the swing of things we come back and kick the green team’s collective ass.

Snooki Writes a Booki–Not A Shore Thing

The degradation of society is complete. Snooki wrote a book: A Shore Thing.  Excuse me–a mind-numbing “novel” providing a few hours of oversexed and undereducated entertainment for the masses.  Someone please bring me some tequila–as long as it’s not a body shot off a juicehead gorilla.  (Huh?)

Apparently she is a little confused about which way the words go…

It is my habit to race for the remote when realty show celebrities are mentioned. This morning, however,  I nearly snarfed coffee through my nose  as Matt Lauer interviewed the Jersey Shore guidette on the Today Show.  I just couldn’t look away as this Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi described how we can tell she really did write the book (using crayons? dictating into her cell phone?) “’cause like it’s all my language…”   Supposedly it took her three months to write along with her co-writer,Valerie Frankel, who helped her through all the hard work.  Writing a book is hard?  Um, like, no way?  I hope Ms. Frankel received an extremely  lucrative paycheck to compensate for dumbing herself down enough to write this trash.

Below are some of the *novel’s* finer quotes (courtesy of the New York Post)

* “He had an okay body. Not fat at all. And naturally toned abs. She could pour a shot of tequila down his belly and slurp it out of his navel without getting splashed in the face.”

* “Yum. Johnny Hulk tasted like fresh gorilla.”

* “Any juicehead will get some nut shrinkage. And bacne. They fly into a ‘roid rage, it is a ‘road’ ‘roid rage.”

* “Gia danced around a little, shaking her peaches for show. She shook it hard. Too hard. In the middle of a shimmy, her stomach cramped. A fart slipped out. A loud one. And stinky.”

* “Gia had never before been in jail. It wasn’t nearly as gritty and disgusting as she’d seen on TV prison shows. The Seaside Heights drunk tank — on a weekday afternoon — was as clean and quiet as a church.”

* “I love food. I love drinking, boys, dancing until my feet swell. I love my family, my friends, my job, my boss. And I love my body, especially the badonk.

I’m not sure if I was overwhelmed with curiosity or nausea when I heard that Simon and Schuster agreed to pay this skank an ungodly sum of real money (would she have noticed if they used Monopoly cash?) to write this tale of guidettes with “one goal in mind: hooking up with a sexy gorilla.”  I think I’m gonna hurl.

I don’t watch the train wreck some consider a show. I would have been thrilled if I never knew any of these cretins were sharing my oxygen.    But one night I flipped to the Jersey Shore (while the Hubby was out of town so there were NO witnesses) to see what the big deal was.  After five minutes I could count the brain cells being sucked through my glazed-over eyes.
It was painful.  It was depressing.  It was…reality?  Whose? 

And how may people who may be  interested enough in Snooki to plonk down 25 bucks of their bar tab money actually READ books?  Maybe they should have made a comic or a picture book?

Snooki’s Top Ten Reasons you should buy her book:

You’re watching Snooki presents on ‘Late Show’ 1/10/11 – TV Replay. See the Web’s top videos on AOL Video

Last April, after she was arrested for disorderly conduct, her judge asked if she was “trading her dignity for a paycheck.”  How many Shore fans are going to trade their paychecks for this 289 page tome?  (Amazon can bundle it with Here’s the Situation: A Guide to Creeping on Chicks, Avoiding Grenades, and Getting in Your GTL on the Jersey Shore by Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino and Gym, Tanning, Laundry: The Official Jersey Shore Quote Book by MTV if you really want to destroy your mind.)  You bet your badonk I’d rather save a tree or use it for toilet paper.

Om for the Holidays





How I WANT to feel (see above)
vs.
How I ACTUALLY feel (see below)




This morning I had a doctor appointment I have been dreading for months. I’ve been having nightmares about it for a week solid. Not only was it a 45 minute drive to get there but I missed my exit and had to pay double tolls to get there in time. Three minutes after I arrived the nurse announced to the packed waiting room that the doctor was in surgery and running late, our appointments would be pushed back 3 hours, and would we like to wait?

Two minutes later I huffed across the parking lot in full vent mode with my poor hubby on the phone feeling the brunt of my frustration. NO I’m not waiting. NO I’m not driving back. NO I don’t want to reschedule right now–it’s the holidays–I don’t have the TIME! I could feel the blood pulsing as I cranked the ipod up as high as I could without blowing my car speakers and tore out of the parking lot to deal with my other chores.

Three songs and ten miles down the highway I came to a realization. It’s not their fault I live so freaking far away. And I’ve caused that same doctor to be called away from the office for my own emergencies over the years. It’s not their fault it took my insurance company this long to get everything approved and the appointment happened to fall during the holidays. I needed to calm down and get a grip.

Yes, the holidays are already getting to me. I am doing my part to revitalize the economy by heartily supporting wine sales and stress-induced doctor visits.

And forget about the bird–I think I’ve been shot with a turkey injector thrusting anxiety directly into all of my vital organs. Money, family, perfect presents, lavish meals, and never-ending drama, drama, drama…

I passed a billboard flashing “Only 7 days until Black Friday!”


I don’t want to think about waking up at 4 a.m. to push through cranky crowds in an under-caffeinated craze fighting over the last zhu zhu pet. I don’t want to rush from store to store stressing to find the perfect gift for some finicky acquaintance who will most likely end up shoving it in her closet or giving it back to me in a year or two because she forgot I even gave it to her.
But Black Friday rock-bottom prices are how we afford to put a suitable spread under the tree and give everyone enough presents to unwrap. That’ s what Christmas is all about, right?

I have spent countless of hours (and gone through a few cases of wine) trying to please and appease others to no avail. For some reason, this season causes some adults to act like two-year-olds in the midst of a pixie stick and Red Bull induced tantrum. It seems no matter what I say or do, someone is bound to be pissed off. I give up.

I’m just not feeling any of the love, peace, or happiness I wish to everyone each year in our holiday card. Where’s the harmony? The goodwill and charity? Am I the only one that realizes that’s what this damn season is about?

It’s time I take a self-centering step back from the commercialism, gluttony, and emotional blackmail being force fed to me. I need to find my quiet amidst the clamor, the calm in my heart and my soul.

I must seek out and savor the things in life I am truly blessed and thankful for–and there are so many amazing things. I am a lucky woman and I have a wonderful life. (And I think I should watch that movie, now that I think of it…)

I must learn to tune out those who thrive on malevolence and discontent.

I will not allow my self to be stepped on or taken advantage of and I will say “No” kindly yet firmly and without excuses.

I will strive to exude kindness, patience, and understanding to all, even if they are stealing the last Lego Harry Potter wii game while flipping me the bird.

I will focus on the things that really matter–the utter joy on my son’s face when he sits under the glowing tree, the celebrations of friendships both old and new, and the love shared within a family which knows no bounds.


And I will to go to yoga class tomorrow morning and find my OM…

Celebrating Literacy and Hilary Duff?

Today is International Literacy Day, a day to celebrate the four billion readers worldwide (my Kiddo now making it four billion one) and bring awareness to literacy programs globally. A day near and dear to my bookworm-filled heart.

And the day I discovered Hilary Duff has a novel coming out next month…

One step forward, two steps back. I guess if celebutante Lauren Conrad can become a popular novelist, the ex-tween-Disney-channel-pop-queen can as well. Why not? I’m sure Hilary’s YA romantic thriller will be a classic to revere for generations. They make getting published seem so damn easy. I’ll bet their book editors had their work cut out for them though…
The BBC Top 100 Book List has been floating around cyberspace in a few incarnations for a while now and I thought it was an appropriate topic for today. Supposedly, the BBC believes most people will have only read 6 of the 100 classic books here. I don’t necessarily agree with all of their choices, but at least Lauren Conrad did not make the cut.

Go ahead, see how your reading habits stack up.
I scored 52–I still have a bit of reading to do. I just hope I am ahead of Hilary…

BBC TOP 100

1. [x] Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
2. [ ] The Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien
3. [x] Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
4. [x] Harry Potter series – JK Rowling
5. [x ] To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
6. [% ] The Bible
7. [x] Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8. [x] Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell
9. [ ] His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10. [% ] Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
11. [x] Little Women – Louisa M Alcott
12. [ ] Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13. [x-] Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
14. [%] Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. [x] Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier
16. [x] The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien
17. [ ] Birdsong – Sebastian Faulk
18. [x+] Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger
19. [ ] The Time Traveler’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20. [ ] Middlemarch – George Eliot
21. [+x] Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22. [x] The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald
23. [ ] Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24. [%] War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25. [ ] The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
26. [ ] Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27. [x ] Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. [x ] Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
29. [x] Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
30. [% ] The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
31. [x] Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32. [ ] David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33. [ ] Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis
34. [x] Emma – Jane Austen
35. [*] Persuasion – Jane Austen
36. [x] The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis
37. [x] Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
38. [x ] Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres
39. [ x] Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
40. [x] Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne
41. [x] Animal Farm – George Orwell
42. [x] The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
43. [x ] One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. [ ] A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving
45. [ ] The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46. [x] Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery
47. [ ] Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48. [ ] The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
49. [x] Lord of the Flies – William Golding
50. [x ] Atonement – Ian McEwan
51. [x ] Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52. [ ] Dune – Frank Herbert
53. [ ] Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54. [x] Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55. [ ] A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56. [ ] The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. [?% ] A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58. [x] Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
59. [ ] The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
60. [x ] Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. [x ] Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
62. [ ] Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
63. [ ] The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64. [ ] The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65. [x ] Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66. [x ] On The Road – Jack Kerouac
67. [ ] Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68. [x+] Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding
69. [x ] Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie
70. [x] Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71. [x] Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72. [x] Dracula – Bram Stoker
73. [x ] The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. [ ] Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75. [ ] Ulysses – James Joyce
76. [x ] The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
77. [ ] Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78. [ ] Germinal – Emile Zola
79. [ ] Vanity Fair – William Thackeray
80. [x ] Possession – AS Byatt
81. [x] A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
82. [ ] Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
83. [x] The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84. [ ] The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85. [x ] Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86. [ ] A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87. [x] Charlotte’s Web – EB White
88. [x] The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89. [ ] Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. [ ] The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91. [ ] Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92. [ ] The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. [ ] The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94. [x ] Watership Down – Richard Adams
95. [% ] A Confederacy of Dunces – John Toole
97. [x ] The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98. [x] Hamlet – William Shakespeare
99. [x] Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Road Dahl
100. [x ] Les Miserables – Victor Hugo
Go ahead, comment on your score…I’m curious…



The Beautiful People…






 Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?

I just returned from a 40th birthday party overflowing with the Beautiful People and I’m feeling a little old, a bit saggy, and Marilyn Manson is echoing through my head…

You know who I’m talking about, right? The Beautiful People? All the girls had salon blown-out hair, chemically golden tans, blindingly white teeth, full makeup (in the pool), fat-phobic bodies (except for their enhanced curves) and microscopic bikinis. The boys were buff, golden, flashing the cash and…well, boys don’t really need much else, do they?

The party was a plastic surgeon’s dream come true. There was so much silicone and saline now floating around the pool I suspected the surgeon was lurking about handing out cards and offering on-the-spot consultations to those admiring his work. I wouldn’t be surprised if the few guests who had crossed the 30’s threshold already had several discrete visits for Botox as well.

The average age, I’m guessing, was about 25.  Keep in mind this was a 40th birthday party. But a McMansion on the lake, a live reggae band, free booze, fast boats, and the promise of fellow Beautiful People to ogle and hit on at seemed to draw them out.

Where did these people come from? None of these people live in my neighborhood. I do not see them at my grocery store or park. I do not know where they hide during the day. The gym perhaps? Swanky office jobs? Upscale shopping venues? Even when I was young, single, and cute I still did not know these people. I don’t know where they congregate at night–I am not hip or beautiful enough I suppose to be included.

And the bikinis… I don’t consider myself modest. I am proud to say that even in my (eek!) mid-thirties and having born a child I will still wear a bikini in public and feel relatively comfortable with myself. But the suits these girls were wearing were about 1/2 the size of my swimsuit. Dental floss, a few beads, and blind faith were all that held most of their bikinis together. And what’s with these new bottoms that look like you have a wedgie before you even put them on? I just looked them up on Victoria’s Secret and found that they are called “cheekies” because they don’t even leave the crack up to anyone’s imagination. How comfortable can they be? I also discovered that’s where most of the girls bought their swimsuits. And heels! I somehow forgot that I am supposed to be wearing 4 inch heels while trouncing around in my bikini…

The boys seemed rather pleased with the views though, to say the least. The few of us who were actually closer to the Birthday Boy’s ripe old age clustered together in a corner of the pool. The old boys just stared in amazement while we ancient girls made catty comments.  There were only a handful of us who were actually married and I was one of only three wives in attendance. The married boys (sans wives) tried to talk around me as they commented and rated the girls, known only by their bikini color. As in Oh Man, check out Pink. Yeah, I bet she’ll be on the Birthday Boy’s boat. Or Damn, where did green go? She is one of my favorites.

{Sigh}

As I was told by them, they are married, not dead. So apparently, we wives are death. Way to make us feel good boys.

I couldn’t even focus on the pretty boys in attendance. Lots of muscle, funky trendy sunglasses (who said huge white plastic frames look good?) and board shorts. By the size of their biceps and darkness of their tans I would assume they don’t spend much time reading or keeping up with current events. I don’t think I could have held a cohesive conversation with any of them. Nothing like a boy who is dumber than a pile of bricks–which is why I ‘ll never understand all the girls who love Jason on True Blood, but that’s another story…

I felt as if I had been transported to Cancun during spring break. I was waiting for someone to break out the beer bong and start the wet t-shirt contest. Maybe the Girls Gone Wild bus paid a visit after we left and the party really got going.

Perhaps these are just the ramblings of a cranky SAHM who is offended by and out of touch with this world of wannabe-nouveau-rich-glitterati.

Or maybe I just like my friends to be like my favorite books: whether their covers are brilliantly enticing or homely and plain, what lies beneath must have beauty and substance to be of value.

Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder.

Censorship is Senseless–Get a Grip Mom

One of our local mothers has decided that she has the literary expertise and moral superiority necessary decide what we should all be reading. Or more appropriately, NOT reading. Apparently, we are not able to handle the Gossip Girl or It Girl novels and she has created her own little crusade to protect us from ourselves…by hiding the books in her closet.

Yes, Tina Harden has been stashing four of MY library’s copies of Cecily von Ziegesar‘s young adult novels in her closet for two years. According to the Orlando Sentinel, Harden leafed through the books after her then 13-year-old daughter checked them out from the local public library. She was outraged over the “numerous curse words” and terms such as “stoned” and “marijuana” she found within. She decided that as a taxpayer she should be able to choose which “material is inappropriate for minors” and should be made unavailable to them. After all, librarians are just “public servants.”

I’m sure no respectable 13-year-old has ever been exposed to any of “those words,” right? By hiding the books, she can prevent her daughter from ever knowing about such sordid topics, I’m sure. AND she can also protect us from corrupting ourselves, should we choose to read such filth and depravity.

Now, I never read any of the Gossip Girl books. From what I have heard, they are a bit racier than the Sweet Valley High and Girls of Canby Hall young adult novels I read as a child. But I read those when I was in elementary school. The only time I was ever denied a book was when I was caught reading Judy Blume’s Forever when I was about 10. By the time I was 13 I had read Gone With the Wind twice, was speed-reading through Stephen King’s vast anthology, and was studying Lord of the Flies in English class. Somehow, I managed to resist the urge to become a promiscuous-paranormal-prejudicial-psychopath, just because I had read about such things.

Has she considered what a shining example she is providing her daughter by breaking the law? By refusing to return the books or pay the $85 overdue fine she is stealing from us, the taxpayers, and she appears to be proud of her crime. Which direction is her mercurial moral compass pointing now?

Harden is blind to two crucial points. First, it is each individual parent’s responsibility to decide what their own child may read. If you don’t want your kids to read a book, that is your decision. But don’t you dare impose your tastes, morals, or righteousness on me and my family. And second, in today’s hyper-stimulated, digital society we should be thrilled anytime a kid is picking up a book instead of a joystick, phone, or remote. By holding a tangible paper and ink book in their hands and engulfing the flow of actual compete sentences into their brain, these kids are an example of a nearly endangered species which we should be protecting and encouraging at all costs.

I hope the library has sent her fines to a collection agency. I am tempted to purchase copies of all four books and donate them to the library, rendering her silly and irresponsible cause obsolete. Perhaps I should send her a copy of Fahrenheit 451 and 1984 while I am at it.

As responsible parents, it is a crucial part of our job to guide our OWN children through the ever-changing world of media. But it is my kid, my choice.

And whatever you do, keep your hands of MY books.

Weighing in on Weighty Issues

There has been a disturbing amount of talk over the last few days about Michelle Obama’s comments regarding her daughters’ weight. These articles are truly beginning to frighten me as it seems everyone is more concerned with her political correctness than the message.

The “how dare she” outcry is grating my few remaining nerves. She did not get up on a stage and call her daughters “fat” as so many over- zealous commentators from the bulimia brigade are claiming. Are we Americans so utterly lacking in self-esteem and proud of our nutritional ignorance that we must automatically assume that anyone who is told their dietary choices may not be perfect is guaranteed a life full of eating disorders?

It seems Sasha and Malia’s pediatrician “was concerned that something was getting off balance.” Now, I think those are the words of a responsible doctor looking out for the health and welfare of his patients. I don’t see him forcing those girls to start sticking their fingers down their throats.

Let’s face it. Kids love junk food. Adults love junk food. And most people would rather sit down with a bag of Doritos than a plate of baby carrots any day. How often do we pick something up at the drive-thru because it’s easier or cheaper or we just don’t have the time to make a real meal while we are so on the go and it’s just so much easier than another debate with a 4-year-old about the benefits of eating their green beans. Oh wait, now we can go out and order those green beans fried—perhaps a few more people will consider that a healthy serving of green vegetables.

So, were the First Daughters handed a Slim-Fast and marched off to some Biggest Looser-Style Boot Camp? No. The family made some simple changes. They ate fewer burgers. Water and apple slices were sent in their lunch boxes instead of sugary drinks and chips. More veggies were served at dinner, and oh, the kicker, they put grapes on the breakfast table. Seriously? People are outraged over this? People need to get their heads out of the bottom of their chip bags and get a grip. These are not elements of a “diet.” They are small dietary changes that every household should be making, lifestyle choices that don’t necessarily even have to do with weight and body image, but HEALTH. My kiddo gets apples in his lunch every single day. I am certainly not trying to get him to lose weight, he is skinny as a rail. Oh, wait, maybe the fact that he has grown up eating fruits for snacks instead of chips may be a contributing factor. And he is healthy, which is my primary concern. According to the CDC, childhood obesity has more than tripled in the past 30 years and nearly 20% of kids 6 to 11 are obese. Am I the only person that finds this disturbing? It’s not their jean size that I care about. These kids are not getting a fair chance of a healthy life. And we as parents are responsible.

Apparently, 68 percent of U.S. adults are considered overweight and a third are obese. I have had a horrible week dealing with some of the consequences of an unhealthy diet and lifestyle. I have been trying to cope with the loss of a loved one who was repeatedly told by his doctors to lose some weight, stop eating so much sodium and fat, and get some exercise. My hubby and I have been trying for years to get some family members to understand that they do not need to diet, they just need to make healthier choices. But to them it is all or nothing. You either eat prime rib washed down with half a cheesecake for dinner every night or boiled egg whites. We have several other family members who seem to be boasting about their growing waistlines, and I am fearful that we are going to be repeating this grievous situation again and again. And they are passing these habits along to their kids, which is utterly unfair to them. It does not have to be this way. Honestly, I don’t care how they look in a bathing suit. It’s not about appearance. I want them to lead long and healthy lives, free from high blood pressure, diabetes, and heart disease.

I am also quite fed up with people saying I don’t understand because I am skinny. And usually “skinny” is said with an audible sneer as if I have some kind of wasting disease they don’t want to catch. I was lucky enough to be raised with good eating habits. Growing up we didn’t eat fast food. We had balanced, low-fat meals. Chips were a treat saved for company and the only time I ever had a soda was when I went to the movies–and even then it was a diet. Sure, I was jealous that my friends always had an unlimited supply of Oreos while mine were carefully rationed in zip-lock bags. And yes, when I escaped to college I temporarily went on a junk food binge because I never was able to eat Fruit Loops for breakfast before. But then I grew up and realized that maybe Mom was right all along.

And I understand genetics can be a bitch. My husband has high blood pressure and cholesterol even though he is thin and fit, so we must pay attention to what he eats to combat those nasty numbers and keep them under control. My In-Laws sometimes treat me like a pariah for causing my family great suffering because I don’t always have bags of Lays lining my pantry nor do I feed them real bacon for breakfast each day. Every time I must calmly chant to them, “I feed my hubby well because I actually like him and I plan on keeping him around for a few years. We don’t have enough life insurance for me to feed him crap.” They still don’t get it.

Every child should have the chance to lead a long and healthy life. As parents it is our responsibility provide them with nutritious foods and to teach them them how to make the beneficial dietary choices that will be the basis for what they eat for the rest of their lives. Teaching a child that carrots are a better snack than Cheetos should not send them on the path to an eating disorder, but instead provide them with the habits to maintain a healthy body and mind. I applaud Ms. Obama for speaking out on a subject that too many of us are too scared or too lazy to bother ourselves with. It takes a strong mother to admit she may may not be a perfect parent in a normal life–to admit it on the National stage takes guts I can’t imagine. We all need to step up to the plate and follow her example. Our children deserve it.